


Different Crap, Different Day

by Earth_Spirit



Category: Four Brothers (2005), Tron - All Media Types, Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: Alan is so Done, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bobby Mercer is Dramatic, Bobby uses his head for once, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Family, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Friendship, Jerry loves his chaotic family, Sam Flynn has no self preservation, Scheming, Shenanigans, These Boys Are Bad At Feelings, This family loves Sam, comeuppance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21881911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Earth_Spirit/pseuds/Earth_Spirit
Summary: In another universe, Jack would've answered the door and gotten shot.OrThrough extraordinary circumstances, Sam Flynn manages to get himself thrown into an alternate universe and ends up saving his alternate self.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	1. To Noise Making

**Author's Note:**

> There is a lack of crossovers between Four Brothers and Tron Legacy, and I've had several ideas for a while now. I'm new to writing, so be gentle with me.

In another universe, Jack would’ve answered the door and gotten shot. However, they were all on edge and Bobby couldn’t shake this feeling. An incessant itch on his skin, a low ringing in his ears. A feeling that made him looking over his shoulders, one that made his peer out the window blinds. 

They were arguing about something, probably something about La Vida Loca, but as soon as they all heard the noise from the door they stopped. Silence. Even from Sofi, something that he wanted from her for a long time, but this was an oppressive and tense silence. Bobby had grabbed Jack and pushed him behind them all.

There was more knocking on the door with another ring of the doorbell.

Well, ma taught him it was rude not to answer, so that’s exactly what he did.

From several feet away.

“ ‘m not buying whatever you’re selling.”

They had only a moment more of silence until they were ducking behind furniture and hallway walls as a hail of bullets ripped through their home. Bobby had immediately grabbed his youngest brother and started pushing him down to the floor, hoping to get him out of the way of the bullets. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Bobby noticed that Angel had already grabbed their own weapons and tossed it to him. Deftly, he grabbed the gun. Once he was sure they could handle themselves, Angel moved towards the stairs. No doubt that he was stashed some ammo in his room.

After several moments that seemingly dragged on, he could hear his brother’s heavy footfall rushing down and a loud voice calls out to him, 

“They’re coming in through the back man!”

“Fucking shit!”

Angel ran over to Sofi and was trying to calm her down enough to find better cover, further away from either entrance, and Bobby found himself doing the same thing with Jack. Sofi grabbed Jack and they both scrambled to the far end of the room. Surprisingly, but at the same time, not, Jerry had a gun in his hands with a look of determination. Bobby was proud, but found himself sad when he saw this. As much shit as he gave them all, he never wanted this life for his brothers. Jerry was married to a beautiful woman, a father of two amazing daughters and had roof over his head. He was supposed to be out of this life. 

But Bobby was proud, proud that Jerry was determined to fight for the life he worked hard for. 

Bobby motioned for Jerry to cover Sofi and Jack, Angel would cover the back door, and Bobby would cover the front.

It was easy, at first. Bobby was causing too much of a distraction for them to storm the front door. Angel was a big dude and was more than enough to hold his own against the men coming in from the back. If overwhelmed, Jerry had would pop off a shot, giving Angel an advantage to finish him. Soon enough, Bobby ran out of ammo, and had to resort to fist fighting and pistol whipping. 

There were too many, Jerry was struggling to cover both Bobby and Angel. Angel was against one last man just as big as him, if not bigger. He was taking a beating and was having a hard time. Bobby downed two more, Jerry one. Bobby went to take a shot before he was stopped by a man calling out, 

“Put it down or we’ll shoot them!”

Ice ran through his veins as Bobby turned and saw a man holding a gun against Jack’s temple. He could see the man holding a bruising grip on Jack’s arm. 

“Put. It. Down.”

They lowered their weapons and the man, probably the brains of the outfit, let go of Jack and took a step away, but still hand the gun pointing at him. Just as they all put down their guns and raised their hands above their heads, something unexplainable happened.

Bobby watched as a motorcycle appeared behind the man and crashed right into him. Bobby had to dive out of the way or risk getting hit himself.

Everyone stopped. Extremely confused.

As the bike appeared, so did another figure. Bobby caught a glimpse of black leather and a black helmet as a man fell onto the floor and rolled a bit until he came to a stop. Bobby looked around for the leader, who hadn’t gotten back up. The stranger, however, was shaking his head and gingerly got to his feet. 

One of the lackeys snapped out of his stupor, rushed the man, and punched him in the gut. The stranger fell to all fours. Apparently, not noticing the gun pointing at him, he had taken a moment to catch his breath and then reached up towards his helmet. With black leather gloves, the stranger had grabbed the helmet and pulled it off.

His was a familiar face, one that he was used to seeing with long brown hair and a guarded expression. When this stranger looked up, Bobby and the rest of the Mercer family were shown the face of their youngest brother. This man had short, strikingly blonde hair and bright blue eyes and he looked right into the face of the man pointing a gun in his face.

Not once did this stranger look at the weapon, only the man behind the machine. In a burst of movement, the stranger knocked aside the gun with his left arm, wrapping it around the gunner’s arm, and with a right fist, punched him square in the face. The stranger moved in closer, turned, and with both arms, threw the gunner over his shoulder and onto the ground. The man landed in a loud thud and they could all hear the breath escape his lungs. The stranger didn’t stop there. With a left hand still gripping tight on the gunner’s wrist, he jabbed downwards with his right and aimed right for the man’s throat. The man was left gasping for air, the stranger rushed around and sat on the gunner’s chest and with one last fist, punched him across the temple, finally knocking him unconscious.

This stranger in black leather and a familiar face noticed the situation and acted immediately. With his back to the nearest lackey, he grabbed the gun, spun around and threw the gun at him. The impromptu projectile hit at an alarming speed. He dashed towards the gunner and took advantage of his moment of distraction. The stranger ran forwards and with two hands, grabbed the man’s head and brought it down onto his knee. They could all see blood flowing from the man’s now broken nose.

Everything now seemed to come back into the moment. Bobby barreled into another man, knocking him to the ground and started to pummel his face. Jerry had tumbled to grab his temporarily forgotten weapon and was able to disable the man in front of him. Angel had managed to gain a second wind and finally strike down his opponent. The big man fell and didn’t get back up.

Soon enough, they were able to turn the tide and downed all the gunners and finally, all was quiet. They were all taking in huge gasps of air, feeling the withdrawal of adrenaline. Bobby finally looked to the stranger, who looked around until he saw his motorcycle and sighed unhappily. The bike, as it flew through the air, had caused a substantial amount of damage. As if he felt Bobby’s eyes on him, he looked around to Bobby, only barely.

“Sorry about your house. I’ll happily pay for any damages I might’ve caused.” The man spoke in broken breaths. As he spoke, he suddenly listed tiredly and fell against one of the living room walls.

Everyone took in a surprised gasp as the stranger pulled back his leather jacket to show a growing red stain on his shirt. From the stain was a protruding piece of jagged wood. 

“Shit.” 

It was a quiet word that fell as quickly as the man did.

The nearest person to the stranger was ironically cracker Jack. He just barely managed to catch the man as he fell. 

Jack had the time to look at the face of the now unconscious man. 

It looked exactly like him.


	2. Here We Stand, Worlds Apart

They argued on whether they should bring the stranger to the hospital or not. Wasting too much time, Angel pushed everyone aside and picked up the man and brought him over to the, now bullet riddled, couch. He held an air of authority. Told Sofi to grab towels and some water. Angel ended up pulling out the piece of wood, much to Jerry's displeasure , who was in favor of waiting for the ambulance to arrive. He told Jack to keep a steady pressure on the wound.

“What the fuck man?! He’s going to bleed out before the ambulance gets here!” Jerry stepped up to his brother’s shoulder, a hand reaching out to Angel’s shoulder to turn him around.

“He’s going to bleed out either way. I’d rather get it done now.” Protesting, Angel brushed Jerry’s hand away and started to run up the stairs. 

Jerry’s nostrils flared and he huffed out an exasperated breath. He snapped his gaze to Bobby, who looked uncertain. Neither of them knew what their little brother planned on doing. They both looked over to the others. Jack and Sofi were keeping an eye on the man. The man in question looked somewhat peaceful. He looked neither in horrible pain or on the edge of death. He was a little pale with a slight sweat on his brow. Sofi had been taking a damp towel to his forehead, trying to wipe off any sweat or blood. Jack, however, looked like he wanted to be sick. Or at least switch jobs with Sofi next to him. 

Angel came running down the stairs, with an iron in hand. Both Bobby and Jerry saw it and made to intercept their brother.

“What in the hell are you planning to do? That’s barbaric!”

“I’ve got to agree with Jerry on this one. Just because you were taught how to deal with injuries in the field doesn’t mean you’re a professional.”

Uncharacteristically wise words from Bobby, but true words nonetheless. 

“His wound isn’t that deep, it’s just long. There’s no immediate threat of internal bleeding. If we can cauterize it, it’ll stop most of the bleeding,” Angel kept walking towards the couch, “Once his life isn’t in danger, the medics can make sure everything is ok.” 

“You are choosing to burn this man without his consent.”

“It’s either that or let him bleed out.”

The elder brothers looked dubious, but they were finding it hard to convince Angel to reconsider. Knowing that he just barely won, Angel continued. He plugged in the iron and waited for it to heat up. As it did so, Angel instructed Bobby and Jerry to hold down the man’s shoulders and legs, Sofi and Jack moved out of the way.

Soon enough, the three of them found themselves taking in a moment of hesitation before Angel applied the iron to the man’s side.

At face value, the man didn’t look incredibly strong but as the heat of the metal touched his side, the man’s eyes snapped open. He didn’t start thrashing, surprisingly enough. His initial reaction was to jerk upwards, his feet were torn free from Jerry's grasp and almost hit him in the face and he sat up quickly which caused his skull to knock into Bobby’s. After rubbing the ache away, Bobby pushed him back down into the couch. 

The man was looking around almost frantically, he briefly locked his gaze with Bobby, but his eyes squeezed shut from the pain. Bobby could see the muscles in his jaw tense up and he clenched his teeth.

By the time Angel finished and pulled the iron away, the man was shaking in Bobby’s arms. Definitely from the shock he just received. As Angel pulled away, the man went from taut and stressed to slack and boneless. Tremors, from the trauma, wracked his body. Angel was calling out for someone to get him some gauze from the first aid kit that they had. Bobby could see a few tears making their way down the man’s face. Bobby turned and motioned to Sofi to give him the towel she still had in her hands. She strode forwards and gave it to him as she saw why. Not normally gentle-handed, unless it was one of his brothers, he gingerly wiped away the tears and sweat.

He was surprised by the man’s resilience. 

Soon, Angel had finished putting gauze on the man’s side and he tended to any other injury he might’ve gained in the fight and he did so with the others.

They found themselves sitting in a slight uncomfortable silence until the familiar sound of sirens pierced the moment. 

Only then did they really worry about what they were going to say, especially about the man prone on their couch. A man that looked exactly like one of the Mercer brothers. 

“Green’s going to know something’s wrong.” Angel provided.

“‘Course he’s gonna know something’s wrong. Look at where we are,” Jerry interjected, spreading his arms out, gesturing to the destroyed house and the bodies on the ground.

“Maybe he’ll be too preoccupied with the other stuff to notice him.”

“Let’s hope.”

Soon enough, squad cars pulled up. They could all hear one call for an ambulance or two, it sounded like Lieutenant Green. Slowly, Green entered the broken front door, gun in hand. Taking in the situation, he put the gun away in its holster and he walked closer to them, 

“What happened here?” He looked tired as he looked to each of the brothers.

“Victor Sweet did this.” Bobby gave his answer quickly and assuredly.

“How do you figure that?”

“Cause his friend over there told me.” Bobby spitting out bullshit at the moment, but there was no doubt that Sweet sent these men. 

The eldest Mercer nodded his head over to the corner of the living room. Green followed and saw a body partially underneath a motorcycle and he could feel a headache coming in,

“I’ll be sure to get a statement.” His tone, while sarcastic, was gaining a frustrated edge to it.

“Are you gonna bury Sweet or are we?” Bobby cut through any possible conversation and got straight to the point. Sweet killed his mother and almost killed his other brothers. 

Green was taken aback by his curt reply, he looked away for a moment before saying, “I got me a...a dirty uniform that I’ve got to take care of first,” he received multiple pairs of confused expressions, “You see, Evelyn filed a report that got passed on to Victor Sweet.”

“By. Who. And don’t bullshit me Green. Who’re you protecting, your boy Fowler?”

“Fowler is my problem. I’ll deal with him. And then we get Sweet.” Green had to quickly take control of the conversation, otherwise Bobby would be getting ideas in his head and that was something he couldn’t afford to deal with right now. 

Lt. Green turned around and headed towards the door when he heard the low voice of Angel call out, 

“Green. So how’re we gonna deal with all this?”

“Was self-defense. Wasn’t it.” That last part was technically a question but it was more of a statement than anything else.

Green headed out and left the Mercer family grateful that they could always find a friend and ally in him. He had always done what he could to help the family out, something they would never be able to repay.

The moment was broken as a familiar synth tune rang through the air. The tune was joined by guitars and drums. It was a song that their mother liked. Journey’s Separate Ways shrilled out from the direction of the stranger.

Almost as soon as the song started up, the stranger jumped and started rifling through his pockets, struggling to find something. Finding it, he brought it up to his ear, 

“Alan?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to borrow some dialogue from the movie, I'm trying to get a feel for writing these characters out.  
> While i'm sure it was apparent to everyone, I need to point out that i know next to nothing about medical procedures. I know for a fact that if you've been stabbed(or something similar) you should always leave the object in, because that's the one thing keeping blood in. Leave it to the professionals.  
> Hope you guys are enjoying it so far.


	3. Enigmatic Manifestation

“Alan?”

“Where the hell have you been?” A very displeased and worried voice sternly replied.

As soon as he picked up the phone call, Sam sat up and tried to stand up. However, just as he made to push himself off the couch, of a home that was extremely unfamiliar, the wound in his side flared painfully and the phone fell from his grip. He fumbled with it, his hand momentarily grasping it, before it slipped completely from his fingers and fell to the floor. The noise from the clatter ringing out. He took a moment to steel himself from the pain. 

“I would love an explanation, now. Not getting any younger.” Alan’s voice was now for all in the room to hear. It seems that in his failed attempt at grabbing his phone, he accidentally hit the speaker button.

“What are you talking about, Alan?” This has been a confusing day and only getting worse. 

Sam made to grab for his phone before freezing as his adoptive father said to him, 

“You’ve been gone for two days. I showed up to the office and I was told you never showed up. I get to your apartment and you weren’t there. You haven’t been there for two days now. Where the hell are you!” 

It was clearly apparent to everyone that Alan was getting increasingly frustrated, if his tone was anything to go on.

“That’s not possible, Alan.”

“Do you know how...embarrassing that conversation was? To try and come up with an explanation to the Board on your whereabouts? The son of the company’s founder, who finally decided to take over, isn’t showing up?!”

“Alan, there’s been some kind of misunderstanding”

“We talked about this!” 

“Alan-”

“We. Talked. About. This.”

“A-Alan! Just...breathe.”

“Don’t tell me to breathe, Sam! I’ve been worried. You left without saying anything.”

Sam took a deep breath himself while rolling his eyes, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling.

“Alan! Please.” 

Let it be said that, as much of a pain in the ass Sam knows he could be, Alan was always a saint of patience and understanding when it came to him. Having raised him for most of his life, Alan never let Sam get a rise out of him.

Whatever happened, it got to Alan. It wasn’t even Sam’s fault this time. At least, not that he could remember. However, he wasn’t feeling like arguing with Alan much longer. The brief burst of energy he got was quickly seeping away.

Alan, it seems, sensed the change of mood. They could hear the deep intake of air and the slow exhale.

“Where are you?” Alan’s question was gently put forth. Sam, finally bent over, as much as his side would allow, and picked up his phone. He hit the speaker button again, turning it off. He then brought the phone to his ear.

“That’s a loaded question. I was driving home on the Ducati, at night, and now I’m...somewhere. And it’s afternoon.”

Gaining some courage, Sam got to his feet and slowly walked to the window. He could feel the eyes that followed his movements.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Exactly what I just said. Alan, this was minutes ago. I was just driving home. Minutes ago.”

“You’re not making any sense right now, Sam.”

“I never said it was going to make sense.”

“What happened. You don’t sound good.”

“I’m going to be completely honest with you. I was driving home and suddenly I’m crashing through someone’s home-”

“So you were drunk?!”

“Of course I wasn’t. I drink, yes, but I don’t get drunk. You know me better than that. If you could let me finish, that’d be great. I crashed through their house and I somehow end up in a shootout.” Halfway through the sentence, Sam whispered, hopefully enough that the others wouldn’t be able to hear him.

Silence. There was no response from Alan. Oh god, maybe this was the day Alan finally gave up on him.

“I’m serious. It’s like I somehow jumped across to a different universe. I’m driving at night, then I’m crashing my bike into someone’s house midday and they are in the middle of a shootout. In the middle of the damn day. It’s snowing outside man! I don’t know what you want me to say. I wish I could say I got wasted and got lost, but that’s not me, Alan!”

“I can’t believe this. That’s impossible.”

“What, you can believe in the grid but not this? The grid was just as impossible as...alternate universes. Is this so unbelievable?”

Sam could hear stammering on the other side. Alan obviously having a hard time finding anything to say. With the constant question from Alan and one that is stuck in his own mind, Sam turns around to face the others in the room, 

“Where am I? Where are we, where is here?”

“Detroit. Michigan.”

“I’m in Detroit, Michigan. I’m not even in the same state. There’s no way I could’ve made it to Michigan in two days. One moment I’m going home, next I’m in Michigan, dropping into the middle of a shootout, I get stabbed with a piece of wood and now I’m in the same room as someone who looks exactly like me. How does that not have the same improbability as the grid?”

“You were stabbed?”

“Out of everything that I’ve said, that’s what you’re holding on to?”

“Don’t give me attitude.” 

“I’m not trying to give you attitude. I’m just as confused as you are, if not more. I’m the one this is happening to. I’m just...trying to wrap my head around this too. I’m tired, Alan, and...I don’t know what to do.”

Those last few words were spoken wearily. Alan had no trouble making it out. Whatever front Sam tried to keep in place earlier in the conversation was crumbling and all that was left was a lonely boy. Alan couldn’t find it in himself to try and find fault in Sam’s current...predicament. If it was true, then a whole world of questions opened up. How did he get there. How do they get him back. If they hung up, would they be able to communicate still or would they just be met with silence.

So many questions.

However, in this moment, there was no room for those questions. Sam needed a friend, a father, and Alan was always prepared to be that for Sam. He promised long ago, to Kevin, to Sam’s grandparents, that he would always be there for Sam.

“We’ll figure it out, Sam.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the dialogue heavy chapter. At least this is a short chapter.  
> I got caught up with other things and the holidays tend to take a lot out of me, emotionally and mentally.  
> Plus, I really had no idea where I wanted to go with this chapter. Every time I had an idea on how the conversation branched out, I completely forgot how it was going to go. Even as I was writing this, it wasn't what I originally thought out. Oh well, it's not too bad, considering how terrible I am at writing dialogue.  
> If it is terrible, please let me know what I can improve on.  
> Hope you like the story so far.


	4. Got An Idea

The Mercer brothers, along with Sofi, watched as the man sat up, pulled out a phone, and brought it to his ear. As he tried to stand up, they saw him flinch in pain and the phone fell from his grasp. They watched as he tried to grab it and failed. As he grabbed the wound on his side, an extremely stern voice rang out, 

“I would love an explanation. Now. Not getting any younger.” 

The voice was not dissimilar from Bobby’s when Jack used to climb out the window and into the night when he was younger. It was a voice of frustration and exasperation. The man was taking in a deep breath as the person on the phone spoke. After a moment he answered, 

“What are you talking about, Alan?”

“You’ve been gone for two days.”

The stranger on the couch had been moving to reach out and grab the small phone, but immediately froze as soon as he heard this. They could see the confusion on his face, clear as day. The man on the other side of the phone kept talking, his tone getting heavier with the weight of frustration. The brothers watched the blond haired man tried to make sense of the words.

“Do you know how...embarrassing that conversation was? To try and come up with an explanation to the Board on your whereabouts? The son of the company’s founder, who finally decided to take over, isn’t showing up?!”

Taking over a company? The guy looks way too young for something like that. The kid barely looks older than Jack. Despite the haggard look on his face at the moment, they certainly saw a lively energy earlier. He had a softer face, exactly like Jack’s, and his light blue eyes were bright.

“Alan, there’s been some kind of misunderstanding”

“We talked about this!” 

“Alan-”

“We. Talked. About. This.”

“A-Alan! Just...breathe.” 

“Don’t tell me to breathe, Sam! I’ve been worried. You left without saying anything.”

The kid, now known to them as Sam, kept trying to get a sentence in, but the man on the phone wasn’t having it. Though, in a way, Bobby, and probably Jerry, understood. This was a man who was worried for the kid. Probably a father then. 

They noticed Sam rolling his eyes. Eventually, the kid managed to calm the man, Alan. The kid seemingly mustered enough energy to get up and walk to the window.

For the next few minutes they listened Sam go back and forth with the man.

They learned a few things. One, the kid had a badass motorcycle, which was still on its side in the living room. Two, the kid was crazy. He started talking about being somewhere at night one moment and then being in their living room the next. However, if the kid was crazy, what did that make them? They saw what happened. The kid did appear out of nowhere. There was no damage on the walls that said ‘Motorcycle crash’. 

“I’m serious. It’s like I somehow jumped across to a different universe. I’m driving at night, then I’m crashing my bike into someone’s house midday and they are in the middle of a shootout. In the middle of the damn day. It’s snowing outside man! I don’t know what you want me to say. I wish I could say I got wasted and got lost, but that’s not me, Alan!”

Sam was now getting heated and his voice was gaining a slight frantic tone to it.

“What, you can believe in the grid, but not this? The grid is just as impossible as...alternate universes. Is this so unbelievable?” 

At this point, Bobby believed that this conversation between them was going to last for a while, and he really wanted to sit down and drink this day away. Not to mention they had to clean up a little bit and then figure out Sweet’s plan. Before he could make a move to walk away, Sam turned towards them, asking, 

“Where am I, where are we? Where is here?”

‘What kind of dumbass question is that buddy’, 

“Detroit. Michigan.” Bobby replied.

“I’m in Detroit, Michigan. I’m not even in the same state. There’s no way I could’ve made it to Michigan in two days. One moment I’m going home, next I’m in Michigan, dropping into the middle of a shootout, I get stabbed with a piece of wood and now I’m in the same room as someone who looks exactly like me. How does that not have the same improbability as the grid?”

The kid’s voice was getting louder, whereas before his voice was quiet and calm, to have some sort of privacy in their conversation. He was starting to gesture, mildly, too. 

‘Maybe he has a concussion’, thought Bobby. 

“Out of everything that I’ve said, that’s what you’re holding on to?” 

“I’m not trying to give you attitude. I’m just as confused as you are, if not more. I’m the one this is happening to. I’m just...trying to wrap my head around this too. I’m tired, Alan, and...I don’t know what to do.”

Those last few words were spoken wearily. The Mercer brothers had no trouble seeing the energy leave Sam’s shoulders. Bobby caught the look on Jerry’s face. It was filled with worry and impatience. If he was thinking what Bobby was thinking, then they needed the kid to hurry up. Standing up, walking around, and getting heated wasn’t good on the injury he sustained. 

Soon, the kid walked to a wall and rested his back against it, phone still held up to his ear,

“I don’t know man. What if I can’t contact you again? What if the...window I passed through closes as soon as I hang up? What? Of course I have it, what are you-”

There was a long pause, 

“I mean, it might be possible, but that’s going to take a while. I don’t think these people are going to want to deal with me for any longer. They’re looking at me like I’m crazy, and you know how much I hate that look.”

The rest of them all looked at each other to see if they were giving the kid such a look and yes, yes they were. What did he expect? Jerry and Jack had the decency to look apologetic. Angel looked more indifferent than anything, but Sofi and Bobby definitely gave the kid a look. 

“Yes, I have cash. Don’t worry, Alan. Yeah, ok. Here’s to hoping. Later, Alan.”

With a look of reluctancy, Sam ended the call. He took a moment to look at the phone in his hand. He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back and hit the wall, and he slowly slid down until he was on his ass. His knees were close to his chest. He had the phone in one hand and the other was covering his eyes.

Bobby didn’t know what to do. It seems they were all gripped into place. All, except Jerry. He took a decisive step towards the kid and kept walking. He walked right up to his feet and then knelt down, and in a kind voice asked, 

“You ok kid?”

Sam had yet to look up but he replied nonetheless, 

“Eh. My name’s Sam. Sam Flynn.”

“Mine’s Jerry Mercer.” As he spoke, the kid finally looked up and Jerry held out a hand. Sam took a second to look at it before offering his own. They shook hands, 

“Let’s get you off the floor, Sam.” With a heave, Jerry managed to pull the kid to his feet. He saw Sam grimace slightly before his face relaxed. Jerry had a hand on Sam’s arm as support and just before he started to guide Sam over to the couch, Sam gestured to the room,

“Quick question, does this happen to you...often?”

The Mercer’s took a good look around. Bullet riddled walls, broken doors, shattered windows, scattered shards of glass, and fallen bodies.

“No. Not this, at least.” Bobby answered. 

Sam gave them an unconvinced look, but he shrugged his shoulders and quietly accepted the answer he was given. Obviously seeing that there would be nothing to gain if he pressed for a further explanation. Jerry had just finished helping Sam over to the couch when a couple of paramedics walked through the front door. What was left of it anyways. Seeing the state most of them were in, they acted immediately.

A few cuts and bruises for the Mercers which was nothing out of the ordinary, but they were pressing for Sam to be moved to the nearest urgent care center. Sam was standing firm and flat out refusing. After a few minutes of talking to what was essentially a brick wall, the paramedics talked them all through the proper procedures of cleaning and care for such a wound and left. 

The six of them took a few moments to calm themselves of their anxieties and lingering adrenaline, all of them favoring to ignore the outside rabble. Now, they were sitting in an awkward silence. Usually, Bobby lived off of awkward moments between his brothers, but now he was getting annoyed. As if sensing his mood, Jerry looked over to him with an expected look. He took a moment to look at Bobby and then dragged his gaze over to Sam. The kid was looking at them, waiting for something to happen. Jerry surreptitiously motioned for Bobby to introduce himself,

“The name’s Bobby. You met Jerry, the big guy over there is Angel, and your look-alike over there is Jack.” Bobby offered quickly, not wanting to listen to them all introduce themselves one by one. He purposely forgot to mention Sofi who, at the moment, was latched onto Angel’s side. At first, it seemed that she was too distracted by Sam’s appearance to notice Bobby’s lack of mention of her name. She gave Bobby a disdainful glare and her chest puffed up a bit, getting ready to kick up a fuss. However, now wasn’t the time for an argument between the two of them.

She let her anger fizzle out before adding in, 

“I am Sofi.” She made sure her voice was soft but loud enough Sam to hear. She wasn’t going to let Bobby get a rise out of her. 

Sam made sure to get a good look at everyone while they were introduced. Took a little longer when his gaze landed on Jack, as if now seeing him for the first time. It was disconcerting, to say the least, to see himself standing across from him. The same but different. Jack had longer hair than himself. The mop of hair was wild, though it appeared intentional. He looked like he belonged in a rock band. 

Jerry looked like a kind and considerate person. The way he took charge of the moment reminded him of Alan when Sam was younger. Jerry definitely looked like a dad. He also looked more approachable than the other two. Those two being Bobby and Angel. If Sam were ever in a situation that he needed help with and had to choose between them, he would probably pick Angel. While he was a looming figure that would probably intimidate most people, he seemed like a deferential guy. Military maybe. Then there was Bobby. He looks like he’s always ready to pick a fight. 

“I want to say it’s nice to meet you all, but I’m...I don’t know how I feel, considering the current situation.”

“That’s fair.”

“Yeah. Anyways, I can give you some money to pay for any damages I might’ve caused and then I can be out of you hair.” 

“I think you might be safer here with us,” As soon as Bobby said this, he could feel the weight of Sam’s look on him, “There are some guys out there, looking for us, and if they see you then they’d probably just shoot you. I mean, you look exactly like our little brother. They’ll think you’re him.”

“You’re all in the middle of something, can I ask what that is?”

“That’s a good fucking question! So Jerry, mind telling me why you’re in bed with Victor Sweet?” Bobby promptly forgot this stranger and turned to look at his brother with anger.

“Man, I told you already. Sweet was the reason my business was shut down! I started paying off his boys to restore the business and to get them off my back. Mom must have found out.”

“What about mom’s insurance?” Angel snapped, Sofi clinging to his arm, trying to make sure he didn’t start throwing punches.

“That was for the girls, man.” 

“Well then, what the fuck!” Bobby exclaimed, throwing his hands up.

“We can’t go to war with Sweet, not straight up. He’d just hire more and more goons ‘til we all dead.”

“What do we do, huh? I-I don’t know what to do anymore. I almost lost a brother. I almost lost all you. We already lost mom, you guys are all I got.”

Bobby’s voice wavered, sounding lost. His voice gave away more emotion than he’d normally let people hear. Even if they were his family. He was no longer looking any of them in the eyes. It was sombering. To hear that their big brother didn’t know what to do. Sure, he pulled plans out of his ass on the regular, but they usually worked out well enough. 

Jerry studied the despondent form of his brother for a moment before a thought came to him, 

“Got an idea” 

He walked up to Bobby, who was still looking away. Angel and Jack perked up, 

“We’ll take the rest of the money from Mom’s insurance, pay Sweet to call off his dogs. He’ll deal, he’s a businessman.”

“Doesn’t count as a plan if it takes you longer to say it than it does to think it up.” Bobby’s tone was somber.

“Yeah, Jerry. Sweet will meet up with you, take your money. Won’t be able to find your body ‘till the river thaws.” Angel threw in.

“If you get that far.” It was so quiet that he almost didn’t hear it, but there was no mistaking the acerbic tone in Bobby’s words. He was angry. Reasonably so.

“If you need assistance, I’m pretty sure I could help.” Sam’s voice rang out, interrupting the conversation. It was enough of a distraction for Bobby to finally look up. He didn’t look convinced,

“No offense kid, but I really doubt that.” 

Sam looked blankly inscrutable. They couldn’t make out his enigmatic expression, which was fixed onto Bobby.

“From what I understand is that you, “ and Sam points to Jerry, “were shut down because you didn’t want to deal with a gang lord, so he’s ruining your life. I’m assuming your mother found out and probably tried to get the cops involved. A crooked cop, which I'm guessing was that Fowler guy, found out and told his boss. He sent someone out to kill her and now you.”

They all nodded.

“Then I can definitely help. If you trust that cop that was here earlier, I’d call him now. If he goes after this dirty cop, he might not make it out alive. You tell him that you have a plan to get both him and this gang leader.”

The Mercer brothers all looked at each other before deciding to give the kid a chance,

“What do you have in mind?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I took some dialogue from the movie and will continue for the next chapter. Then I should be free writing the dialogue after that. Hopefully it flows right.  
> I hit a bit of a block but i'm getting through it.  
> Hope you like the chapter.  
> Again, if you have any tips or advice let me know.


	5. Let's Twist Again

Jerry rushed into the house, closing the door with a loud thud, alerting to all those within the house of his return. He was met with expected faces, anxious to hear what he had to say.

“Kevin called Sweet. He’s going for it.”

“When?” Bobby asked quickly. Jerry knew that his reply would be met with anger no matter how he said it, so he just went for brutal efficiency,

“Four o’clock.”

“Today?! That’s in three hours man!”

“Well, we don’t got a choice. He also said if Fowler’s there, he don’t think he’ll go for it.” 

“So there’s no plan!” Bobby threw his hands up and walked away in frustration.

“Yes there is, Bobby. We need to take Fowler out before the meet.” Angel interjected, hoping to keep his older brother calm.

“We can’t kill a cop, even if he is dirty.” Jerry threw in, needing to stop that particular train of thought before it took off.

“He handed Ma to Sweet. He ain’t walking away from this.” Bobby stated with absolute certainty, his voice giving away his more than likely bloody intentions.

“You know, there are other ways to get him out of the picture. Without resorting to physical violence.” A stern and slightly sardonic voice interrupted.

“Like what?” Bobby spun around to face Green, who stared him down with an impassable face.

“You can get him put away if you could get proof that he’s being paid off by Victor Sweet. I could hack into his computer and see if I can’t find any messages between them.”

“I shouldn’t be here, listening to this. The less I know, the better it will be. What y’all are talking about is enough for me to arrest the lot of you.”

“To be honest, they wouldn’t be in this mess if they’d left the one guy alive enough to interrogate.”

“Yeah, well Bobby’s always been quick on the trigger. I’m not surprised.” Green admitted with an unamused tone and gave a face to match. He was sitting at the Mercer family’s dinner table, elbow on the table and his head was resting on his hand. He was rubbing his temple, trying to rid himself of an unrelenting headache. A headache most definitely caused by the eldest Mercer.

They had gotten ahold of Lt. Green at Sam’s request. Sam was worried that if any one person moved against their current problem, Detective Fowler, they might not make it back. When they called, Green didn’t seem too happy or convinced, but agreed to stop by nonetheless. Soon enough, he arrived at the bullet riddled Mercer house. He was let in and they told him that they had a plan to take down Victor Sweet.

He was silently intrigued and outwardly doubtful. When he asked what ‘exactly’ they had in mind, Sam saw this as a chance to take charge of the moment. 

Lt. Green was used to the sight of the four brothers, as odd a sight they could be to outsiders. What he wasn’t prepared for was for a young man, who looked almost exactly like Jack did, to answer him. He took a second to take in his appearance. Blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and hunched over himself, holding his side. He looked closer and saw blood staining his shirt. He snapped his gaze over to the brothers, 

“You got another brother involved in your shit?” He accused, sternly.

“He ain’t our brother.” Bobby countered. 

True to form, Green didn’t seem convinced. He looked from Jack to Sam and then back to Jack. Jack saw Lt. Green trying to make sense of the situation, met his eyes, and shrugged his shoulders, 

“It’s...kinda hard to explain,” He supplied unhelpfully, “but we’re definitely not brothers.”

“Somebody better explain  _ something _ to me.”

“I’m from an alternate universe, but that’s not relevant right now. We have a plan to take down those that were responsible for the shootout earlier, and to uncover those that are being paid off by this guy, Sweet.” Sam interjected so straightforwardly that Green almost didn’t hear a single word he said,

“How?”

“We use their mother’s life insurance as a front to buy off this Victor Sweet. Jeremiah meets up with him at a location of his choice and he’ll try to stall for time. While we wait for his reply, we get evidence that your detective is being bought by Sweet. You get me to his computer and I’ll see if I can’t find any correspondence between the two of them. Angel is to detain the detective and see if he can’t get him to confess. Once we’re sure he’s not on your side, you go in to apprehend the detective and Sweet.”

The kid’s voice was steady and confident it was hard to not be impressed, to believe that a plan like that would work,

“That’s...ambitious.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile. I hit a wall on this story, plus i've been busy with work and with everything going on right now.  
> Sorry if this seems like a slow burn sort of story. I'm trying to tie the two stories together and figure out how to get from the Mercer's universe to Sam's with them all intact.   
> As always if there a mistake or if you have any advice, let me know.  
> Hope you're all doing okay and staying safe.  
> Title is taken from Chubby Checker's Let's Twist Again. I love the song, it puts me in a happy mood and it gets me excited for spring.


	6. In the Name of My Mother, There Will Be Justice

Lt. Green couldn’t quite believe how efficient the Mercer brothers could be, though given their recent troubles he could understand how they managed. He’s seen people do extraordinary things when fueled by pure emotion, whether it’d be better or for worse. The Mercer family couldn’t be the only exclusion. Not to mention with the addition of Sam, who is most definitely not their brother, things moved a little more smoothly. He had a more stable head on his shoulders. He wasn’t looking for revenge, he just wanted help bringing justice to this family. 

The kid was wicked smart. He and Angel’s girlfriend came rushing into the police department to report that they overheard that Sofi’s boyfriend, unnamed, was planning to kill a cop. Green had arrived at the station ahead of them and had walked by as they started crying out to the person at the front desk. As a concerned cop for a fellow colleague, he told the front desk he’ll bring them into his office for questioning.

He and Fowler shared an office and Sam immediately hopped onto Fowler’s computer. He was able to get through the sign in screen in hardly any time at all, impressing Green. In any other circumstance, Green would’ve arrested this kid. Sofi made a convincing act of a terrified girlfriend. She stuck to her script well. Going back and forth between yelling then crying then calm. Telling Green what she heard and what she knew. 

Soon enough Sam was able to find a secondary email account that had just recently received a new message. After back tracing and following a series of email threads, Sam was able to find proof that Fowler was on the take. Whoever he was talking to was fool enough to mention Sweet by name. In fact, the entire conversation and the countless messages previous hid nothing to the true nature of their topics. It was plain and simple and enough to put Fowler and others behind bars. Now, they just needed Angel to get him to confess. 

Making sure that Sam had kept everything as it was and logged out of everything, they made their exit, in a somewhat hurried fashion. Green had put up a front when he went to his superior officers, telling them that he just received news that one of their officers was in danger. When told this, they requested to hear from Sofi. In a calmer fashion, she repeated her lines to them. She then told them that she was worried because she heard her boyfriend mention the name, Sweet. 

The plan was to make it seem like her ‘unnamed’ boyfriend was a lackey of Victor Sweet. To make it seem like they had a falling out and Sweet hired him to take out Fowler. Even if they had no proof to give to the higher ups, she would tell them that’s all that she heard. Hopefully it was enough to spark some suspicion and if they looked further it would be enough for probable cause.

Knowing someone was in danger, no matter who they were, was enough to send a few squad cars racing to Fowler’s house. Green went with them, as a loyal and concerned partner would, Sofi and Sam stayed behind. As they squeal into the street facing his house, they are all taken aback when Fowler steps outside, holding Angel at gunpoint. This wasn’t in the plan, but in a way, it really helps everyone else believe that Fowler is on the take. They all try to talk him down and convince him that they’re all on the same side. Fowler isn’t having it. He tightens his arm around Angel’s throat and turns his gun from his head and points it at them. He fires. Not having much of a choice, they fire back. 

As much as Green hates Fowler for his betrayal, he was relieved that one of his colleagues managed to clip him in the shoulder. Angel was able to use his weight to throw him off and make him lose his grip. Angel had ducked almost as soon as the gunfire started and as soon as Fowler let him go, he rolled as far as he could to get away. He saw in his periphery Fowler going down, shot to the shoulder. 

Angel made sure to record his nice and wonderful conversation with Fowler right up to the arrival of the police. In the moment however, it was hard not to shoot the guy, sitting on his couch like he wasn’t being held at gunpoint. Conceited fucker, that’s for damn sure. Angel was nervous though. He wouldn’t let Bobby know, but he was nervous. He knew his role, he knew what to do and when, but not everything turns out exactly like you plan. At first, he made it seem like he was there to get his revenge, but had to act like he was anxious that the cops would catch him in the act. It wasn’t too hard, but damn that man was making him mad, 

“You hear that? That’s a beautiful sound. Those are my boys coming. It’s not looking good for you, homeboy.” The smirk on his face was turning his mood sour. Angel really wanted to punch the look on his face off of his face. 

“We’ll see how long they stay your boys after they find out you dirty.” He threw, holding his arms steady, keeping the gun aimed at Fowler.

“You’re one of the Mercer brothers. No cop in the world is going to believe your word over mine.” 

“ ‘s that right?”

He had baited the man to be cocky enough to confess to Angel the truth of his involvement in his mother’s murder. Angel liked to think it was his A+ acting skills, but it was probably because Fowler believed that Angel wouldn’t be getting out of this situation alive, because he was so sure of himself. 

As Angel heard the squad cars squeal into the street that faced the house, it was time to knock this fucker off his high horse. It was actually cracker Jack’s idea to convince Fowler that he was wearing a wire the whole time, that Angel was working with the cops. Green had said that it would be risky to reveal that information to Fowler, there was no telling how the man might react. Honestly, being held at gunpoint was worth seeing Fowler’s smug-ass face fall in fear. Not to mention, it helped that it sealed Fowler’s fate. To have all this evidence against him, a confession, and then holding a man at gunpoint and shooting at his own colleagues.

He was taken to the station where he met up with his girl and Sam. Green wasn’t far behind them, the Chief of Police hot on his heels as they geared up to apprehend Victor Sweet. There was enough information to set a warrant out for his arrest. Angel only hoped that Bobby didn’t kill the man before they could.

As they sat in the lobby, his emotions calmed down, Angel was actually grateful that they were doing this the right way. More or less. He wanted true justice for mom. Killing people willy-nilly was something Sweet did. Something people of ill-repute would do. They were taught better. Sure, they’ve killed people in the days past, but he was angry. As much as he wanted to blame Bobby for dragging him along, Angel wasn’t afraid to admit that he tended to feed off of Bobby’s emotions, just as much as Bobby fed off of his. 

Mom wouldn’t want this. She’d want them to give her true justice. To take her murderers to court. It was hard. Goddamn if it wasn’t hard. The justice system tended to favor its own police over others, no matter how dirty the person was. It wasn’t always a true justice. Of course, she knew this, but just because she knew this didn’t mean that she could suddenly decide someone’s fate. It didn’t mean that you could be the judge, jury, and executioner. 

Whatever lessons she tried to teach, she knew that it was up to them to decide which ones they actually learned from. Bobby probably ignored half of them. They worked just as much as they didn’t work. However, in this moment, sitting in this lobby, Sofi’s hand twined around his, he was glad that he didn’t shoot Fowler. 

It wasn’t up to him to decide the man’s fate. It was up to his coworkers, fellow officers, his partner, his chief, the city, his own actions and inactions, and the hard proof. All of that would decide. Knowing Green was on their side, Angel fully believed that his mother would rest in peace now that she would have justice.

Now, it was Bobby’s turn. Angel only hoped that the cops would make it there before Bobby killed Sweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while. Wasn't sure how to continue this forward. I kind of rushed through this. I'm bad at dialogue so i'm sorry if there isn't a whole lot in this chapter and in this story.


	7. A Sweet New Deal

The car ride was awkward and Jerry felt the tension probably had to be cut with a chainsaw. He was stuck in the middle seat in the back of the car. He had a clear view of his destination. In the middle of a goddamn frozen river. He could make out a cluster of people standing out against the blindingly bright snow. Even with them all grouped together, Jerry had no issue making out Victor Sweet. 

He hated how far out Sweet had them all come. Nowhere to run, to hide, to take cover. Nothing. End of the line. 

He couldn’t help but tighten his arms around the bag he was carrying. 

He hoped Bobby and the cops showed up soon. He preferred that the cops show up before his overzealous and easily riled up brother did. Jerry wasn’t confident that Bobby would have the restraint to not kill the man.

Deep within himself, he understood Bobby’s rage and untempered hatred. A part of him wanted his brother to tear Sweet apart. However, Jerry knew that the satisfaction would only be temporary. No matter what, their mother was gone. Only her memory and love remained. Her hope that they would choose the path they’d least regret and Jerry knew, that at some point, if he allowed himself to stoop down to Sweet’s level, he’d regret it forever. 

He also knew that Bobby would not feel a damn thing after killing Sweet, but the rest of them would. Jerry would feel disappointment but some slight gratification, even if he didn’t want to admit it to himself. Angel would have some conflicting emotions, just as much as Jerry, but Jack? 

Jack would see things much differently. 

They all knew of his trauma. The things he’s witnessed, the things he’s endured. 

Jerry could remember Jack coming home that night. That night of the car chase in the blizzard. Quiet. Pale. Scared. He’d just witness Bobby and Angel straight up kill a couple of guys. Rather than beating them to near death, Jack saw his brothers execute them. Jerry knew that he didn’t really get much time to sort through all of that, he just kind of swept it under the rug to deal with later. 

That’s something they’ll have to talk about later.

Jerry knew that Jack wouldn’t have been able to deal with more death. ‘God, please let the cops show up before Bobby.’ Jerry couldn’t help but pray.

Soon enough the car is pulled to a rough stop, the tires losing traction for a couple of seconds. They slide to a stop right next to the other vehicle on the ice. As they got out of the vehicle, Jerry could make out Sweet’s laughter,

“Can’t believe you showed up. You’re a true businessman.” As he approached, Sweet basically ripped the duffle bag out of his hands and unzipped it to inspect the contents inside, “Damn, I like the way you do things! Should’a let me in on your project. We coulda been partners. Coulda been a sweet deal for the both of us, now it’s just a sweet deal for me.”

“Are we gonna do business or what?”

“What were the terms again? You pay me four hundred grand and I pardon you and your brothers. Forgive and forget, right?”

“Something like that, but you see I just buried my mother. Almost had to bury my little brother. I think that’s payment enough. Vic.” He spat the man’s name.

“You’ve been doing a lot of thinking boy.” Sweet said with a warning tone. 

“Yeah, my momma raised me to be a thinking man, so we came up with a whole new proposal. A real _sweet_ _deal_. I think you’ll like it. Instead of giving you the four hundred grand, we’re going to give it to the mistreated workers you got standing behind you.”

Without turning around, Victor held out a hand and said, 

“Pistol.”

When nothing appeared in his hand, he spun around and looked at the men around him. Sweet did nothing as they all walked over to Jerry.

“It’s cold out here when you’re by yourself, isn’t it.”

“You gonna kill me? Over a dumb old lady!” he shouted out to the men around him.

“You watch your mouth. She was a well liked and well respected woman.”

“You kill me, you go down for murder. I told Fowler all about this meeting. In fact, he should be here any minute.”

Jerry couldn’t help but start laughing, the sound of it had Sweet glaring at him.

“He ain’t coming.”

“What’d you do, Mercer?” 

“You see, we met someone. Practically fell into our laps. Really smart kid. Helped us come up with a plan to expose you and all the corrupt people you’ve got on your payroll. Fowler should be in a holding cell by now.”

The look on Victor Sweet’s face was priceless. Abject horror. The realization of his inevitable downfall. And Jerry couldn’t help but smile. Right up until he heard a voice call out,

“Sweet!”

Heads turned to spot a figure walking towards them. A dark and very angry figure. 

Bobby Mercer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, a chapter. Half a year later.  
> Welp, until next chapter.


	8. Mauler

A lone figure against the harsh light reflecting off the snow was walking towards them. Hardly seemed in a hurry, but you could tell from his posture he had purpose.

Jerry couldn’t help but stare in wonder at his dramatic-ass brother and all he could think was, ‘Crazy bastard walked the whole way, huh.’ Jerry shook his head despite himself.

“Is that who I think it is? Bobby Mercer,” laughed Sweet. He did a three hundred sixty degree turn, gauging the reactions of those around him at the newest addition. Bobby. Fucking. Mercer. They held some amount of relief and fear at his approach. He stopped right next to his brother,

“You alright, Jerry?” 

“Yeah, I’m good.”

Before Jeremiah could try and come up with a plan to stall, Bobby immediately handed him his gun. He took it right out of Bobby’s hands. Even though he knew Bobby wasn’t going to shoot Sweet, Jerry didn’t want to take the chance. Besides, hand-to-hand was probably the only way that would kill enough time for the cops to show up.

“Is this what y’all been waiting for? Couldn’t take down the champ yourselves, had to wait for Mercer to show up.” Sweet taunts as he sheds his garish fur coat.

There was no response from Bobby. He was dead silent. He shook his limbs to bring back some warmth from the long walk across the ice. Jerry stepped close to his brother to whisper harshly, 

“Stick to the plan, Bobby,” Bobby gave him a harsh look, “Let him hit you first. Cops show up, you were defending yourself. There’ll be witnesses.”

“It’ll be easier to kill him. Throw him in the river.” Bobby mumbled back.

“Yeah, it would be, but if the cops grab him, he goes to prison. He’d suffer the rest of his life.”

This close, Jerry could see conflict in Bobby’s eyes. He understood what Bobby was going through. Sympathized, but he prayed that Bobby would honor their mother. Respect the blood already shed because of this man. He willed his brother to understand that yes, it’s easy to kill someone, but it was harder to live with the knowledge that it wouldn’t make him feel better. Their mother isn’t coming back and killing Sweet won’t change that cruel fact. 

“Fine. Still going to beat him to shit.” Bobby grumbled finally. Jerry gave a half smile at the reply,

“Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

It almost felt like he was giving his brother permission to beat Sweet half dead. He knew that no matter what he’d say, Bobby wouldn’t not beat the shit out of the man. Jerry doubted that even Cracker Jack could get him to stop, which is saying a lot. As much shit as Bobby gave their baby brother, he had a soft spot for him, despite claiming that he didn’t play favorites.

So, Jerry had to play the waiting game along with the others and prayed that Bobby didn’t let his rage get ahead of him. Things tended to end quickly when it did. 

Bobby, as big as his trigger finger was, preferred bare-knuckle boxing. There was some primordial feeling he got from busting his knuckles against some poor sucker’s face, and he had no problem feeling satisfaction when he landed a nasty hit on Victor Sweet’s face. He saw the skin split open and blood started seeping out. He could feel it cling to his fingers.

In a way, he was glad Sweet could hold his own against Bobby “The Michigan Mauler” Mercer. If he was anything less, Bobby definitely would’ve killed him a while ago. 

Soon enough, just as Sweet started to flag and showing signs of loss of consciousness, the shrill of squad car alarms rang across the riverbank. Before the two fighters could go any further, they were both tackled to the ground. Jerry and the others were herded away. Jerry was pulled aside by Green, who gave him a confident nod. 

Jerry felt a weight pull off his shoulders and he could breathe a little easier. Green had both Mercers put in the back of his vehicle as soon as Jerry grabbed the duffle bag. The others were told to follow back to the station to give their statements. Victor Sweet, slightly dazed and wozy, was cuffed and shoved unkindly into a car and was taken away. 

As the two older Mercers sat in the back, Green gave them the 411. 

“Sam was able to make copies of Fowler’s conversations to Sweet. Angel went in and riled him up. Enough to make Fowler take him hostage. He ended up shooting at us as we went in to calm the situation. Angel didn’t even need to record everything. The captain was where during the shootout and we could all hear Fowler confess to working with Sweet. He thought he’d already been had. Fowler’s alive and we’ve already taken his statement. The captain already had his personal emails combed through.”

As he explained further about several other cops and city officials being on Sweet’s payroll and already taken into custody, Jerry found himself smiling. He took a glance at Bobby and found a shit-eating grin on his face too. 

Bobby, admitted to himself that this plan was the funniest thing he’d been a part of in a long time. To see Sweet’s face when this goes to court, to watch all of his work fall apart and him sentenced to prison, had to be the most ironic thing. 

Victor Sweet never felt intimidated by the Mercers. He ruined their lives, killed their mom, and they were the ones that exposed him.

That’s fucking hilarious.

Maybe Sam and Jerry had a point. Maybe straight up killing him would’ve been just fine, but to watch this man fade into obscurity, was a better feeling. 

And maybe, this would make Ma proud of him. 

Bobby had to stop thinking too far ahead. He knew it wasn’t quite over yet. They still had to do a lot of investigating before they’d have enough to take to court. 

Bobby looked over to Jerry and saw the look he was giving him. 

“Don’t look at me like that.”

Jerry gave a hearty laugh, 

“You did the right thing. Even though you beat the shit out of him and almost killed him.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“You sound like Cracker Jack.”

“I do not!” Bobby loudly argued.

“Yes, you do,” Jerry snorted, “Yeah, whatever,” he imitated in a petulant tone that Jack used to give them when he was a kid.

Bobby huffed and turned his head away from his brother to look out the window. He watched the snowy landscape pass by as they approached their destination. Green parked the car and let them out. He led them to a room where they were met with the others. Angel, Sofi, Jack, and Sam. 

He took a quick look at Sam, who was still a little pale, but he was on his feet and didn’t look like he was about to fall over, so Bobby wasn’t quite worried.

Angel and Jack stood up as soon as they saw their older brothers walk into the room. Jerry looked fine, but Bobby was a little worse for wear. He noticed their looks,

“You should see the other guy.”

“I don’t think I want to see the other guy. Knowing you, his face probably looks like ground up beef.”

Green took the moment to laugh and cut in, 

“We got to them before that could happen, but he still did quite a bit of damage to Sweet.” He shook his head as he spoke. 

Green took off his coat and took a seat at his desk. Looking at each one of them. Looking at the Mercer family. This was a rough family, but a good family. You’d be hard pressed to find a more loyal group of people. 

“You people have been through a lot the last few days. I wish I could say it’s over, but we all know there’s still a lot we have to do before Victor Sweet’s behind bars. However, we’ll take statements from you two boys. The captain will probably like to speak to you but after that you’ll be good to go home for today. We’ll make sure to keep you all up to date with the investigation and the date of the hearing.”

“Alright. Let’s get this done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how things work in this story, but here's another chapter.


	9. The Future is Forgiven, So Smile

It had been a hell of a week, that by the time they got home from the police station, they all crashed. Jack had immediately climbed the stairs and headed for his room. He couldn’t find the energy to close the door like he usually would. He just cracked the window slightly and flopped onto his bed. Just as soon as his head hit his pillow, he could feel the pull and he was asleep.

Jerry had gone to his own room and called Camille. Letting her know what’s happened and to make sure that she and the girls were okay. It was a difficult conversation to have. She had been hesitant to go through with their plan, worried that Sweet was going to put a bullet in his head as soon as he got the money. She was hysterical as soon as she picked up, but he calmed her down enough to get his story told. He could hear a heavy and relieved sigh over the speaker when he told her that everyone was fine and that Victor Sweet was in custody.

Angel had a similar plan as Jack. He walked upstairs and fell asleep a few minutes after laying down on his bed and Sofi made sure that their new friend was okay and didn’t need his bandages changed before following Angel. She crawled beside Angel, embracing him in her arms. It took her a little longer to settle her frayed nerves and find sleep.

All that remained downstairs were Bobby and Sam. Sam had made his way to the kitchen, asking Bobby if he could take some food, to which Bobby replied,

“Only if you grab me some too.”

“Sure thing, big guy.”

There were plenty of Thanksgiving leftovers for the two of them to pick at. They sat quietly at the dinner table, in a relatively awkward silence. 

Sam felt that it had more to do with Bobby than with him. He didn’t mind the silence, but Sam had a feeling that the man across from him had something on his mind. 

As though picking up on this, Bobby looked to Sam,

“Never got the chance to say thanks, so ugh, thanks.”

“There’s no need.” Sam replied.

“Really? You saved my brother, you helped us put a bunch of assholes behind bars, helped us avenge the death of our mother, and you don’t want a thank you,” Bobby listed off all the reasons why he was thankful, but Sam kept giving a small shake of his head, “Even after we put your life at risk?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders, 

“I practically crashed into your life, helping you was the least I could do.”

“The least that you could do. Says the guy who offered to pay for any damages you caused, all while bleeding out.”

“What can I say, I’m a nice guy.” Sam smirked.

Bobby sat there and gave that blonde an incredulous look. Sam huffed out a small laugh, 

“Listen, I don’t need you to thank me because I can see it in your eyes. I don’t have to be told something I already knew.”

Bobby contemplated him before looking down at his food. He thought about the Thanksgiving dinner he had with his brothers. He knew that they were remembering their mother. He watched them stare at the empty seat. The seat where she should’ve been sitting.

Bobby was always there to watch over them all. Just as his mother did. He remembered watching them grow. He could recall watching Ma help them through their problems and traumas. He remembered her doing the same with him and when he was always too stubborn to thank her for it, she always gave him a smile. Her eyes held such understanding that astonished him. He remembered watching her do the same for his little brothers. Just smiling and giving a small nod or a gentle hug. He could remember seeing their expressions of shock and wonder.

As he came back to reality, he could feel his head nod up and down.

“I think I understand.”

Sam gave him a small smile in acceptance to his response. 

For about a half an hour, they continued to pick at the food in front of them in an agreeable silence. Bobby cleared his plate and leaned back into his chair and stretched his arms over his head, refusing to acknowledge the slight popping he felt in his joints,

“It’s been a hell of a day and I think sleep is calling my name.”

Sam chuckled to himself, 

“I think I’ll second that. Thanks for letting me take your couch.”

“No problem. Least we could do.”

The leftover food was put away and Bobby headed upstairs, while Sam headed into the living room. He noticed that someone had left a few blankets and a fluffy looking pillow sitting on the armrest of said couch. Probably Sofi or Jerry, Sam thought to himself, picking up the pillow. He laid it in the corner of the couch and unfolded the blanket. Sam let himself fall onto his back and draped the blanket over his body. He took a deep breath in and then out and stared at the ceiling.

He stared until he got bored of it. He let his eyes follow the path of bullet holes dotting the walls and furniture. He got bored of it, then stared at the ceiling again. 

And kept staring. 

He turned on his phone to look at the time. 10:42 pm.

Turned it off.

Stared at the ceiling some more.

He closed his eyes.

They snapped open. 

Ceiling again.

Checked his phone. 11:04 pm.

Followed the bullet holes.

Stared at the ceiling.

Checked his phone. 11:11 pm.

Turned it off.

He started to tap his fingers against his phone and jostled his foot a little bit. He tried humming a tune. He attempted to keep his eyes shut, hoping that his body would get the freaking hint.

He checked his phone again.

Only 11:35 pm.

“For the love of god, why?” He couldn’t help but groan quietly.

He shifted to lay on his left side. No, no, that won’t work. Turned onto his right side. Oh, that won’t do at all.

Sam eventually shot up and swung his legs over the side of the couch. He leaned back against the cushion and let his hands rest across his lap, phone clutched between them.

He dared another look.

11:47 pm.

He stared at his phone. Looking at the notifications.

Absolutely nothing. No calls, no texts. Nothing. He looked through his recent phone calls and this morning’s phone call was all that was on his mind at this point. It was inescapable. It filled him with worry and dread. Like an omen hovering above his head.

He turned his phone off again. Let his head fall back and he let out a long-suffering sigh. He let his eyelids fall shut.

“Hey man, you okay?” Came the quiet voice.

Sam, once again opened his eyes and found himself meeting the gaze of his alternate self, Jack.

Sam noticed the slight change in his outfit. He was now wearing sweatpants and a dark colored hoodie. It was hard to see in the dark interior of the living room but Sam could see a logo on his sweatshirt, some sort of grunge bank or punk rock. As Jack walked closer, Sam noted unkempt hair and dark shadows under his eyes. Signs of a restless night, much like the one he was experiencing. 

Sam nodded in lieu of a vocal response. 

“Can’t sleep?” 

“No. How about you?” Sam asked Jack.

“I was, but…” the boy trailed off.

“Nightmares.” It wasn’t a question and from the self-deprecating shrugging of his shoulders and arm gesture of ‘what can you do’ told Sam that nightmares weren't new to Jack.

Normally Sam avoided people as a whole, what with the media in his face for most of his childhood. He became a loner after his father’s disappearance. People liked to speculate whether he couldn’t handle the pressure of heading Encom, was driven mad with grief by the loss of his wife, or just straight up died in some unnamed ditch. Sam couldn’t decide which was worse to hear, so his mind had settled for apparent abandonment. 

With all the coverage and constant nagging from reporters and paparazzi, other kids either made fun of him or pretended to be friends in hopes of getting something from him. So, Sam had opted for home tutors for the majority of his teen years. The last few years of school he was pressured by Alan to join a public school, “Make some new friends” as he put it. The first year in public school nearly backfired on them both. 

As soon as Alan dropped him off, the media were swarming. The principal was called out and demanded that they leave and even threatened to call the police. By the time they left the premises, Sam was walking into the principal’s office with his head down low as to avoid the stares from his fellow schoolmates. It wasn’t a great start to a new school year with hundreds of other kids around him.

Sam eventually learned that their opinions of his didn’t matter and that he just needed to be himself. He stopped trying to seem average. He showed everyone that the smarts in the Flynn family wasn’t just his father. He excelled in mathematics, computer science, and a number of other classes. He took as many extra credit projects he could and always made sure he aced every single class, because by senior year he opted to graduate early. 

Alan asked him about college and Sam said that he already had one in mind. It didn’t matter that much that he chose the same college as his father because he ended up dropping out. He only joined to see if he could one-up the old man, but Sam realized that there was no point to it all. 

Suffice to say that Sam didn’t know how to truly comfort people, especially people he’s just met. He, himself, tended to stay away from close introspection lest he fall into the pool of depression that he fell victim to every so often. Self-deprecating and dry humor, sarcastic remarks and avoidance became his coping mechanisms. It was to make him seem apathetic to people just so no one got any ideas into their heads.

So as Sam sat on the couch with Jack on the other end, heaviness hanging between them, Sam found himself wondering what he should say. It was easy enough with Bobby, because Sam could see similarities between him and Alan. So Sam went with a sort of obligatory response most people would have, something that Alan would ask him,

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” 

“Do you ever talk to them about it?”

“They know I have nightmares. Had ‘em ever since I was a kid.” Sam couldn’t find it in himself to feel pride knowing he guessed right. Nightmares were a plague on the mind and the body and to know that Jack suffered them more than most was unpleasant.

“Were tonight’s different from the others?”

“A little bit yeah. I know that they can beat someone to death if they wanted to, but to see them do it is…” Jack took an unsteady breath and hugged himself a little tighter, “All I could dream about was them gunning down a guy earlier. We were chasing them in the car and there was a blizzard going on. They flipped his car and shot him down. It scared me. It still does. They just shot him like a wounded beast. Not to mention the shoot out this morning.”

“Geez. Did you tell them about this?”

Jack shook his head, “There wasn’t any time really. We were all focused on finding Ma’s killer.”

“Well, you found him. You all should probably consider therapy after this. Or sit down as a group and talk about it. Though that’s up to you. I’m no professional after all.”

“Jerry and Camille would probably agree with you on that, but I don’t think it’ll be that easy. Bobby is an asshole on his good days. Angel might do it if Sofi encourages it and only if Bobby doesn’t try to make Angel feel less like a man for agreeing to therapy.”

Sam immediately noticed Jack avoiding talking about his own feelings. Maybe they had more in common than he thought.

Sam gave a noncommittal noise as the back of his throat and thought for a second before landing on a less heavy subject.

“I couldn’t help but notice your sweatshirt. What kind of bands are you into?”

Apparently that was a loaded question, as Jack’s eyes brightened and he gave Sam a wide smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, the longest chapter I've written. Go me.


End file.
